


Catch Me, I'm Falling

by orphan_account



Series: Perfect For You [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Partner, Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Violence, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Running Away, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Éponine knew she oughtn't watch Marius' girlfriend. She was never good at doing what she ought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me, I'm Falling

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on the headcanon I have for my modernverse Éponine roleplay blog on Tumblr. As noted in the tags, this drabble contains triggering material: specifically, depictions of domestic violence. It's not "graphic" per se, but due to the nature of it, I archived it as such. Proceed with caution. (Also, Next to Normal references because I can.)

Éponine knew she oughtn't watch Marius' girlfriend. She knew someone would notice eventually, and while she didn't care if people knew she occasionally lusted after girls -- well, the word would get 'round to someone unfortunate, and there would be consequences. So, as a compromise, she rested her head on her folded arms and tugged her hood over her head, pretending to have a nap while her eyes remained locked on the perfect, blonde vision that was Cosette Fauchelevent. At some point, she had fallen asleep for real and woke to a persistent nudge against her shoulder.

"Meeting's over, 'Ponine. Cafe's closing." She glanced up at Courfeyrac, still bleary-eyed, and nodded. She gathered her bag and followed him out in her usual, morose silence. She thought about Cosette, who had come to an ABC meeting for the first time (much to Enjolras' irritation). She thought about the way her cream-coloured blouse showed off her perfect breasts just so, and the gleam of her golden hair as it hung over her shoulder in a loose braid. Her laugh, when it carried across the café to Éponine's ears. The way her skin must feel...

"--nine? 'Po _nine?"_ She started when she finally heard her name, and crinkled her brow in consternation at Courfeyrac's amused expression. "Thinking of Marius again?"

"Shut up, Courf. I wasn't." And that wasn't a lie, but none of the boys knew it. She'd been infatuated with Marius Pontmercy once, but that had all but vanished on meeting Cosette. It wasn't the first time she'd crushed on a girl, but it had never been so intense before. She'd never lost herself in thought as she did thinking of the perfect, pale angel she would never have.

"You keep telling yourself that. I can't believe he brought his girlfriend to the meeting, though. Enjolras was so pissed -- he was ready to throw them both out. I mean, she's pretty and all, but it was obvious she didn't know what the hell was going on. My opinion? He needs to ditch the airhead and get with you. At least you've got a head on your shoulders." Once upon a time, she would have blushed, but now she was just irritated that Courfeyrac had called Cosette an airhead. She wasn't, though perhaps she seemed like one: she was gentle, and loving, and kind... Éponine shook her head. _Now is **not** the time._

"My stop," she said when they neared the cul-de-sac where her apartment complex was located. Courf nodded and waved, bidding her good night. When she went up to her flat, she found the door was unlocked and at first she wondered if she'd left it that way -- but the reason was made clear when she walked inside. Her heart tightened, but she forced a smile to the man sprawled out on her ratty old sofa. She knew she should have gotten the locks changed.

"'Parnasse. I didn't -- I thought you weren't sprung 'til July." Montparnasse grinned at her, an expression that would have been dazzling if she weren't so terrified of him.

"Good behaviour," he answered languidly. "You don't sound so excited to see me, 'Ponine. What's wrong? Got yourself a new boyfriend while I was locked up?" Éponine shook her head, and he laughed.

"That's my girl. C'mere, then." She dropped her bag by the door and obeyed; her stomach churned with dread. Montparnasse put his arm around her and pressed kisses to the hollow of her throat. It took all she had not to shudder at the contact, and even more when he began pawing at her breast over her shirt. He was interrupted when Éponine's phone went off in her pocket.

"Let it ring," he growled, slipping his hand beneath her shirt. She did, but it rang again; Montparnasse sighed impatiently and nodded at her to answer. When she looked to see who was ringing, her eyes went round: it was Cosette.

"Sorry -- I didn't get the phone in time. What's up?" 'Parnasse was watching her, waiting -- she knew she'd have to make it short.

"It's okay. Um, I was wondering...if maybe you were busy tomorrow afternoon? My class was canceled, and I know you aren't in university, so I thought we could hang out?" Éponine smothered a grin. For a moment, she forgot about Montparnasse.

"Yeah, sure. I don't go in 'til five, so any time before that is good." She heard the happiness in Cosette's voice when she replied, and it made her feel light as air: "Great! I'll pick you up around one, if that's okay? Marius -- kind of told me where you live." Éponine replied that it was okay, and they exchanged a few more pleasantries before ringing off. Montparnasse did not look pleased, and she knew she'd made a mistake. She wished she didn't care, but she knew that look in his eyes.

"Who was that, 'Ponine?" His voice was quiet, nonchalant even. She swallowed and tried to find her voice.

"A friend," she answered softly, barely audibly. She cleared her throat and corrected herself. "Marius' girlfriend." Montparnasse was in her face before she could take another breath, and she knew she was in for it.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he snarled. His breath smelled like peppermint, with an undertone of alcohol. "Who. Was it."

"I ain't lying. It was Marius' new girlfriend. Her name's Cosette. I swear, 'Parnasse. She just wanted to hang out tomorrow, that's all." He grabbed at her just as she leapt up from the couch. There was a brief chase around the living room, then his hand closed around her arm too tightly. The back of his other hand connected with her face hard that she knew without seeing it that it'd bruise. He hit her again and again, and she struggled to break free of his grasp. The more she fought, the harder his blows became. She curled away from him, and his fist rained down against her shoulders and back.

When he finally let her go, she ran out the door and into the chilly autumn night. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get away. Far away. By the time she slowed down enough to recognise her surroundings, she found that she didn't. The streets were empty, and she was cold and crying and she hurt. All of her stuff was still at her flat, and she'd be damned if she would go back for a bag. At least she had her phone in her pocket. She drew it out with shaking hands, and saw six texts and three missed calls, all from Montparnasse. All of them, she deleted without reading or listening to the messages. Then she dialed a number. "Hey, Éponine." Cosette's voice on the other end was bright, if a bit perplexed. When Éponine didn't answer right away, she sounded a bit more concerned. "Hello? Are you there?"

"...Can you come get me?" She sounded terribly broken, and a weak sob came free at the end. She ought to have called Marius: he'd been there for her before, when Montparnasse got violent. He would have known what to do. Yet her fingers dialed Cosette's number instead, without thinking.

"Is everything okay? You sound horrid. Are -- are you hurt?" Cosette's voice quivered with worry. It almost made Éponine want to laugh. If only she knew.

"I'll tell you later. Could you -- ?"

"Oh! Of course, I'm sorry. Are you at your flat?" She shook her head, then remembered that Cosette couldn't see it.

"No. I don't know where I am, actually. By some park. There's townhomes across the street." Cosette sounded outright afraid when she agreed to come get her -- luckily, she knew the area -- and they rang off only because Éponine's phone was running out of battery. There was a bench a foot or so away, and she sat, hugging herself and willing herself to stop crying. It was about fifteen minutes before Cosette's car pulled up; the blonde girl took in the sight of the brunette's red eyes and bruising face and gasped. Éponine shook her head to forestall questioning, and they started back down the street from which Cosette had come. She didn't need to tell the other girl not to take her back to her own apartment, for which she was thankful.

Cosette's house wasn't enormous, but it was in a nicer part of town that Éponine's apartment. There was another car in the driveway, and Cosette explained without asking, "My papa. I know, I know -- I just can't leave him. He's all I have." 'Ponine gave her a weak smile, indicating that she didn't care that the girl still lived with her father. They went inside and up the stairs to Cosette's room; Mr. Fauchelevent was reading at the kitchen table and simply called a hello, which Cosette returned when they were halfway up. Her bedroom was predictably pink and girlish, but Éponine was not in the frame of mind to care. She was nudged down onto the bed and promptly given a stronger hug than she'd have thought possible, coming from such a petite girl.

"Please tell me what happened, 'Ponine." Cosette's voice was thick and a bit muffled, and it took Éponine a moment to realise she was crying. When she was finally released, she reached out to wipe Cosette's tears, marveling at how soft her skin was: softer than she'd imagined. Was it her imagination, or had the blonde's breath hitched at the touch? No, she was hearing things. There was no way... Gathering her bearings, Éponine launched into the explanation Cosette had asked for, and by the time she was through, the other girl had a look of utter horror on her delicate features. Another hug, this one more careful but no less genuine, and accompanied by whispered apologies.

Before she knew what she was doing, Éponine's mouth was on Cosette's. The blonde went rigid at first, but relaxed after a moment, then began kissing back after a few more. It was better than 'Ponine could have ever thought, and although it was tentative and uncertain, she felt her entire body light up. She thought maybe she was sick in the head, for wanting to kiss Cosette after being beaten up by Montparnasse, but she was sick in the head for plenty of other reasons too -- what was one more added to the pile? Finally, they parted, and Cosette's lipstick was smeared, her eyes wide. She was panting as though they'd been kissing for hours. Had they? Éponine couldn't tell, her mind was in such a dizzy whirl.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said, taking the wide-eyed look for fear. "I should go. Um, thanks for picking me up." She stood up, and Cosette's hand shot out for hers. It was too much like what 'Parnasse had done, and she very nearly panicked, until she felt long, elegant fingers entwine with hers.

"No, please -- you can't go back there. Stay. I can drive you to work tomorrow evening. Papa won't mind, I know it. Just please...stay here." Their hands were still clasped as Éponine sat back down. They didn't say any more of the kiss that night, and nothing of the sort happened again. Were it not for the bruises and the aches, they might have just been having a sleepover. They stayed up most of the night talking, and when they finally went to bed, they lay back-to-front with Cosette curled around Éponine almost protectively. It took an hour or more after Cosette had fallen asleep for Éponine to relax, but when she did, she was met with pleasant dreams.

It was a start.


End file.
